Open Doors
by Sevanadium
Summary: Harry Potter was having a very mundane summer, even if it was spent at the Dursleys. But when someone knocks at his door and he opens it to find Snape he begins to find out a few things he thought were the truth, aren't. This is my attempt at a good old-fashioned Severitus fic. Of course, I'll most likely ruin a few things as I'm just going off my head. friday updates hopefully.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter wouldn't class himself as being in the worst of positions. Sure, he probably suffered from more than a few kinds of abuse according to various muggle brochures, but there were starving children in Africa. Those kids were definitely in a worse position than he was.

For starters, they didn't have magic.

It was such a small word that held so much meaning and hope to him. The word held promises of the warm Gryffindor common room and ice cold butterbeers on sweltering days at Hogsmeade, stormy days spent in the library as he and Ron studied frantically for upcoming exams under Hermione's watchful eye. He just loved Hogwarts more than anything due to what it represented to him.

An entire month of the holiday had passed and Harry had spent most of those days staring at the roof of Dudley's second bedroom. He never really had gotten into the habit of calling it his own, because it wasn't. The Dursley's had made a very clear point about him taking the food out of poor little Dudder's mouth whenever he asked for something.

His birthday had been a few days prior. Another dust cake had been made as he sung happy birthday and blew the dust away in lieu of blowing out candles and making a wish. It had been quite difficult to find a suitable patch of dust, no matter what Aunt Petunia said he held much pride in cleaning everything thoroughly.

Today had been the day he had received an owl detailing his results. Well, the fact that he didn't have Any results. The Triwizard Tournament had rendered him exempt from the end of year exams and had given him an automatic pass. Hermione was not pleased with that fact at all when she had first heard of how he was not writing exams that year.

He continued to stare at the dark ceiling and could easily recall the most mundane details that no one should be able to recall about a ceiling of all things. He could remember every single crack and dip and discolourment that marred the ceiling's paint. The days of the past month that weren't spent locked up in a room wiling away the time by staring at a ceiling were usually spent in the garden, and when the entire Dursley family was busy Harry was set an inhumanely long list of chores to complete inside the house.

Those days were Harry's favorite. He was able to drink as much water as he could from the taps and scavenging food was a lot easier to do. On a good day, he was able to gather food for a few more days. Not that the Dursley's starved him. They did feed him. Though it was usually a can of cold soup each day. Lately, they had taken to buying those bulk packages that were cheaper and more disgusting to eat. Not that Harry was even able to complain.

The ending to the last term had not been the greatest. Voldemort had a body now and Cedric Diggory was deader than one of Hagrid's literal rock cakes. The Ministry decided that they weren't going to believe him and even a fair portion of his friends were a bit skeptical over what he was saying. Harry really loved the wizarding world.

He was forever the attention seeker was he not?

Anyways, Harry was simultaneously looking forward to and not looking forward to the next school year. Fifth year was the year of OWLs, and Harry didn't think that he was going to do too well on those. There was also the fact that most of the wizarding world was against him and thinking that he had gone mad. But at the end of the day, he was getting away from the Dursleys and that had to count for something.

It took a good while before Harry managed to fall asleep that night.

* * *

A knock at the door startled Harry from what he was doing. If it was another one of those persistent door-to-door salesmen he was going to find his wand, wherever it was, and cast some hex that would cause irreparable damage to the damn muggle.

It could be said that his day hadn't been going very well. It had started by being yanked from his dreams by Aunt Petunia yelling shrilly for him to come down and make breakfast. Now that had yet to deviate from what happened during most days, but, unfortunately, it had to have been one of __those__ dreams. Not a nightmare, the complete opposite actually. So he'd had to contend with that.

His morning hadn't improved from that point onwards. While making the Dursley's breakfast he had somehow managed to spill the entire boiling hot pan of bacon onto himself, his arms and stomach were still extremely sore from that and he was definitely putting off checking out the damage.

There had been one saving grace that morning and that had been the fact that he was being given a chore day, an entire day spent doing nothing but chores, all by himself. He had salvaged the bacon from the mostly clean bin earlier that day. The salty taste of the bacon had been borderline orgasmic, even if it had been slightly flavored by last night's spaghetti.

Still, chores weren't the most comfortable of things at that moment. While his arms and stomach had taken the brunt of the oil he still managed to get blisters on his forearms and fingers. That was a lot worse than it seemed, as he had a longer list than usual today as Uncle Vernon was going to be expecting company that night.

So far he was making good progress on the list that was held down on the counter by a dirty dish, he still had yet to do those, the doorbell had just sent his day down further than it had been originally. He got up slowly and dried his hands on his threadbare pants. The Dursley's sure knew how to dirty up a kitchen floor.

His knees ached uncomfortably as he walked to the door and checked out the window to see who it was at the door. It would not be good to ignore one of Petunia's 'friends'. Slowly, he inched the curtains back and immediately he let them drop.

Was that Snape?

Harry stopped for a few seconds as he tried to think of what he should do. The reason to Snape's visit eluded him. There wasn't much reason for the Order to come and talk him something unless it was something important. If it was something important it would probably be a good idea for him to open the door, but it was Snape of all people.

He tried to be quiet as he paced back and forth. Opening the door would be the best of plans, but Snape was out there. The urge to snort and start laughing at himself washed over him. A complete kid, that's what he was acting like. He had just turned fifteen about two weeks ago, he should probably stop acting like an eleven-year-old.

"I can see you pacing up and down like a rabid animal Potter, just open the door," Snape called out from the other side of the door, his voice just as snarky as Harry remembered.

He breathed in deeply and stopped in front of the door. For just a moment his hand hesitated on the way up to the doorknob before he put his hand on it and opened the door.

Harry put on the most insufferable smile he could, "Hello," he said in what he hoped was an overly enthusiastic voice.

Snape did not look very pleased to be standing in front of Harry's front door, "Where are your relatives?"

There was no beating around the bush with Snape. No 'how are you?'s or 'the weather's looking mighty fine' as was quite customary in Britain. It would have irked Harry if he was not used to the caustic treatment from Snape.

"They're not home today, sir." Harry quickly added the sir.

A dark eyebrow lifted and Harry found himself wishing that he was able to mimic that facial expression of Snape's.

"When will they be home?" Snape asked after a few moments of silence. He really sounded like he had no patience today. Harry wiped his grimy hands on the knees of his pants again.

"Aunt Petunia will be home at about four I think." Four o' clock was still a good few hours away. Harry should probably offer Snape tea or something, he was not that uncivilized and he knew that it was good manners to offer guests tea and to not leave them standing at one's doorstep.

The silence really was oppressive and Harry wished that he wasn't standing in front of his most hated teacher in a pair of wet pants with a shirt that hadn't been washed in a few days.

Snape stepped into the room and Harry was forced to take a step back, "I'll have to wait here for your relatives then." He said decisively and walked into the lounge and sat down in the most comfortable chair. Harry realized that Snape would probably not want to sit in the armchair if he knew that it was Uncle Vernon's favorite chair that he sat in nearly daily.

"Would you like some tea sir?" Harry asked. It felt awkward standing there as a professor basically invaded the Dursley's home. Uncle Vernon was not going to be pleased if he came home to this.

"That would be...nice." Snape's back was as stiff as an ironing board as he sat in he chair and waited expectantly for Harry to start on the tea.

It didn't take long for Harry to make his way into the kitchen and put the kettle on and grab a teacup and all of the other tea-related stuff Aunt Petunia usually kept handy for guests. The floor was still wet and he still had most of his chores to finish before Aunt Petunia came home. How he was going to handle that he did not know.

A short while later Harry had set everything onto a tray to take to the lounge. He made sure to wipe all of the water off his feet and placed it down gently on the table closest to Snape.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked. His finger's worried the sleeves of his shirt as he waited for Snape's answer. He looked at Snape as he waited for his professor to reply.

Snape took his time pouring the tea into his cup. He didn't add any sugar or milk into it and took a small sip without waiting for it to cool, a grimace showed his distaste for the tea. It could have been the muggle tea or the brand or the fact that Harry had made it, but nonetheless, he still disliked it.

A few more tedious moments passed and Harry had started to feel the suspense when Snape finally answered, "It seems that I may have come across some important information involving you."

He paused again and took another sip of tea, "You're staying with me for the rest of the holidays."

Harry ceased all movement. Snape had to be pulling his leg. There was no way that he would voluntarily take Harry in. The man absolutely hated his guts. If given a choice between Snape and the Dursleys, it was hands down that Harry was going to choose...actually he would still choose Snape, he seemed like he would be better than the Dursleys. At least Dumbledore would keep an eye on Snape, that was if he was staying at Hogwarts.

If he wasn't, well then the Dursley's were seeming like a far better option.

"Potter, are you okay? Don't tell me your minuscule mind can't handle new information outside of the school term."

"I have to finish my chores sir," Harry said quickly and went back into the kitchen. The suds of the soap he was using on the floor had already dissolved leaving the floor a dirty brown. He got back onto his knees and grabbed the scrubbing brush and began frantically scrubbing at the grout between the tiles.

Harry had managed to clean a large portion of the floor when he felt a presence behind him. He stopped and slowly turned around to find Snape looking at him from the door frame. Those dark eyes of snape's were boring into his very soul and Harry found it very difficult to even look away.

With a sigh, Snape unpocketed his wand and waved it around in what seemed to be an intricate pattern. Suddenly the water that Harry was kneeling in dried up and the floor was instantly cleaned. It looked as if the grout had been freshly laid.

"What else do you need to do before you relatives return home?"

"Um..I need to wash the dishes." Harry stood up slowly and grabbed the cleaning supplies strewn across the floor. Snape had gone through a change of mind, he wasn't sure what had made him change his entire demeanor, but he had.

With another wave of his wand the dishes that were placed in haphazard piles over the kitchen counters were rendered sparkling clean.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said. If Snape was being generous he might as well show that he was thankful for it, because he was. Already Snape had saved him a good hour or so of work.

"And?" Snape prompted him for more of the tasks he had to complete.

"I have a list, I'll get it," Harry rushed to get the list and passed it to Snape who took it and skimmed over it. His eye's widened subtly.

"Your aunt is returning home at six?" He asked Harry for confirmation.

"Four actually."

Snape's eyes flicked to the clock on the kitchen wall and back to the list, "We better get started then." He said, disgruntled.


	2. Chapter 2

Purple was quickly becoming one of Harry's favourite colours. Not because of the actual color itself, in his personal opinion purple was not the best of hues. There was absolutely no chance that he was going to get large quantities of robes in it, like Dumbledore had, amongst other bright and clashing combinations.

The reason why it was his favourite from this point forwards was a bit of an odd one. Before he didn't like it all because that was the colour Uncle Vernon turned whenever he did something wrong. Today, he was actually quite enjoying it.

Snape had helped him with the rest of the chores that he had been set before Aunt Petunia came home and even helped him pack up his stuff. Rather, he had just said _alohamora_ and unlocked the cupboard under the stairs and looked impatient while Harry double checked that all of his stuff was there.

No matter how much he had pestered the potions master he still would not tell Harry why he was being taken away from the Dursleys to stay with him. Now, Harry wasn't usually one to question good turns in his life, but he just wanted to know _why_. It was just Snape of all people seemed to be willingly taking him into his own residence.

When Aunt Petunia had come home she had gone white as snow. He wasn't quite sure why she had such an adverse reaction to Snape, but he had. She had acted as if she knew his dour professor. The idea of Snape knowing a muggle didn't really want to set itself in Harry's head so he found himself just ignoring the fact as he watched Snape make her even more uncomfortable than he had done with Harry.

It was quite the funny situation. Harry busy standing on the sidelines as Uncle Vernon turned more and more purple and Snape grew more and more exasperated.

"What gives you any right just, to just barge right in and take the boy?" Uncle Vernon asked. This confused Harry, why was Uncle Vernon even defending Harry? Well, not defending Harry, but rather trying to keep Harry at the Dursley household. The man had made it clear more than once that he had no rights within the house, but why the sudden change of heart then?

Snape took a step towards Uncle Vernon and seemed to come up close and personal without even getting within a metre of Uncle Vernon's personal space. He watched silently as the much, much larger man attempted to back away and found himself flush against the counters in the kitchen.

Harry couldn't hear what Snape said to the man, and at that moment he sincerely wished that he was able to read lips, that was, if he was in a position to see Snape's face. By the looks of things, Snape was far from smiling and Vernon looked as if he was about the wet his pants.

With a sharp movement Snape turned around and grabbed Harry by the arm, "We are leaving now," he snarled out and Harry had to start moving quickly, lest he was dragged out of the house.

"You can't just take him!" Petunia screeched, "What about...what about Dumbledore?"

Snape paused for just a moment, "Dumbledore is aware." He continued at a slower pace and Harry was able to keep up much easier.

It was when they got to the door that they heard Uncle Vernon stomp his way into the entrance hall. In such a short period of time Uncle Vernon's face had contorted into one of pure rage, his jowls were quivering like a rabid dog's and his skin had become blotchy.

"What are you doing? What about the subsidy that-" Uncle Vernon stopped mid-sentence. Harry's brows knitted in confusion, the Dursley's were receiving money to look after him. He looked up at Snape whose expression had hardly changed from when he had walked away from Vernon.

"That _subsidy_ you speak of is no longer being sent, now that you have proven yourselves incapable of caring for your whale of a son, nevermind Harry Potter."

Snape's grip on his shoulder tightened just the slightest bit as he led him away from the Dursley's. With a wave of his hand, the front door opened and they walked out into the humid summer's evening. Silence reigned until they had made it a fair way from Privet Drive. Did Snape know where they were going?

"I don't want to sound rude sir but why are you taking me from the Dursley's?" Harry asked yet again. His question could go one of two ways—bady, or not so badly. He really hoped that it was the latter.

"As I informed you earlier, I was made aware of some knowledge that I wasn't aware of previously." Snape's back stiffened the slightest and Harry would not have noticed it if he hadn't have been watching the man carefully. Whatever it was, it sure was big to have made Snape visibly uncomfortable.

"What is it?" Harry asked. He really shouldn't be prying into this sort of stuff, and especially not with Snape, but he couldn't help it.

"I'll tell you when we get to Hogwarts," Snape answered. That was the closest the man had come to telling him all day.

Was it something Snape felt uncomfortable sharing? If so that could mean it was anything. At least he knew that he was going to Hogwarts instead of some old mansion or whatever Snape had as a house.

Harry was beginning to recognize the path they were taking as they walked into a small alley before they entered Magnolia Crescent.

"Are we going to Mrs. Figg's?" He asked suddenly. That was stupid of him to ask. There was absolutely no way that Snape would know Mrs. Figg, the crazy cat lady of Little Winging. Hopefully, Snape wouldn't have too harsh of a rebuff.

"We are, in fact, going to Mrs. Figgs. She is the nearest person with a Floo."

That surprised Harry. Mrs. Figg knew about magic? So he asked the next question that came to his mind:

"Is Mrs. Figg a witch?"

"One could say that. Arabella is a squib," at Harry's confused look he quickly explained, "A squib is a magical person that does not have use of his or her magic. While Arabella is able to use the Floo and see magical creatures that muggles can't, she is unable to cast any spells."

Harry nodded, "Thank you, professor."

The rest of the walk was in silence and Harry only found it mildly uncomfortable. That was partly due to the fact that he had so many questions in his head, but couldn't for the life of him think of an ordered way in which to ask them.

It was only a short while later that they reached Mrs. Figg's door and Snape knocked on it twice before letting his arm fall down next to him and they both waited until Mrs. Figg opened the door.

"Hello, dears. Why don't you come in, it's so cold outside." Her motherly personality immediately soothed Harry and he was reminded of all the times he was put under her care when the Dursleys went on this or that holiday. Why she had remarked that it was cold outside Harry did not know.

"Why yes, it is indeed," Snape had immediately replied. Harry did not know what was going on between them. Some kind of secret code talk? But what was Mrs. Figg doing in the middle of all of that stuff? If Harry had been informed correctly she was a squib, which was not of much use to a magical world, unless she had connections.

They were quickly ushered inside and Harry wrinkled his nose as the smell of ammonia assaulted his nose. Why did Mrs. Figg's house permanently smell like a litterbox? She didn't even have one as far as Harry knew.

"Would you like some tea and biscuits? It is quite late in the evening, but at least have something before you go." Mrs Figg offered. Harry was sorely tempted at the idea of tea and biscuits, or at least the biscuit part of it. He had never really gotten the taste for tea and more often than not he had about three spoons of sugar to combat any bitterness that was in the tea. That was when he did have it, which was not that often.

"I'm sorry Arabella," Snape apologized, "But I would like to get Harry to Hogwarts as soon as possible."

Harry felt uncomfortable now, has Snape just apologized and just called him by his first name. It must have just been a trick of his mind. Tomorrow morning he was going to wake up to find out that everything had just been a hallucination because of something he ate that was a bit off.

"It's alright, but do come back soon. I have to thank you somehow for the potion you made for Tibbles the other day. His ear had healed wonderfully since then."

"It was my pleasure. He doesn't need a followup potion does he?" Snape asked.

"No, no! I think he's fine" Mrs. Figg answered.

Snape was being unusually courteous to Mrs. Figg. It was...weird and Harry did not know what to think of it.

With a slight touch on his shoulder, Harry was led towards the fireplace.

"Have you used a Floo before?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded, "Yes sir." He probably should not tell Snape about the disaster that was his first time Floo'ing with the Weasleys. In his defense, they had not emphasized how important it was to say the name of the place one was Floo'ing to correctly. It had not been a pleasurable experience at the end of the day.

"Good. You are to say 'Hogwarts, Snape's quarters'." Snape waited until Harry nodded, "I will go first and disable the protections until you have come through."

Harry nodded again. What if he messed up again this time? Snape would surely not be too pleased with him. He could feel the pit in his stomach already and the blood was already beginning drain slowly from his face. Neither Snape nor Mrs. Figg noticed his reaction and Harry was comfortable to leave it at that. He didn't want anyone to know how much of a scaredey-cat he was being.

"Hogwarts, Snape's quarters!" Snape had grabbed a small handful of the dust when Harry had not been looking and had thrown it down with flair. Immediately the fire in the fireplace turned green and Snape stepped through. It was barely a few seconds later that the fireplace returned to its original colour with only a small green tinge giving any evidence of what had just occurred.

Mrs. Figg held out the jar of Floo powder for Harry to take, "Don't worry dear, Severus will be on the other side." she said reassuringly.

"Yes ma'am," Harry said and took a handful of the powder from the jar. He inspected it for just a moment and wondered why it was ash coloured of all things. If Harry didn't know any better he could have easily confused it for ashes. Especially in a decorative vase the shape and size of an urn. He shook his head slightly and smiled at Mrs. Figg.

"Goodbye Mrs. Figg." He said.

"Goodbye Harry, come visit soon." was Mrs. Figg's reply.

It was going to be so weird Floo'ing to Snape's quarters of all places. Did the man live in a dark and gloomy place like everyone suspected or was he going to surprise Harry? He took a step towards the fireplace and threw the Floo Powder in.

"Hogwarts, Snape's quarters!" Harry said loudly. He focused as much as he could on pronouncing the words properly and watched in awe as the fireplace in front of him immediately turned green. Well, he couldn't put it off any longer. He stepped into the fireplace and ignored the inkling of fear that was brushing up against his skin like the harmless fire itself.

Immediately he was whisked away from Mrs. Figg's house and into what he assumed was professor Snape's quarters. He stepped out of the fireplace and started to cough. He didn't expect it when Snape patted his back to try and help him through his coughing fit. Wizarding transportation really was odd sometimes and Harry didn't like it very much. Whose idea was it to use the fireplace to get from point A to point B even?

"Come, I'll take you to the lounge and we can talk over dinner. You look like you've been starved."

Harry didn't like the way that Snape was looking at him, the way that the man's eyes had that slight hint of burning fire in them and how his lips were drawn into a thin line. A few seconds later the man's countenance was ironed into his usual one of indifference and he quickly turned to what Harry guessed was the direction of the aforementioned lounge.

It was only then that Harry truly noticed that Snape was not wearing his usual black robes and was instead wearing a simple muggle suit, which was in the same black shade of the man's usual clothing choice. He had to fight back a smile at that sight.


	3. Chapter 3

"Misty," Snape called out as soon as they had entered the lounge,"Could you get dinner for Mr Potter and myself?" He asked.

The house elf that had appeared just after Snape had said her name nodded and her rather large ears flopped around, "Yes master Severus Snape sir!" She said excitedly and then popped out of the living room.

"I don't have a dining room," Snape said as a way of explaining why he had not taken Harry to the dining room instead. With a wave of his hand, the fireplace lit up and warmed to room considerably, "Sit down."

Harry sat immediately onto the black leather couch. The house was decorated in dark colours, but very few greens as Harry had expected. Instead, there were dark browns and some blacks, overall the atmosphere was warm and comfortable.

"Did you expect me to spend my free time hanging upside down as a bat?" Snape remarked.

"Uh, no. I just didn't expect your quarters to be so...friendly." That was the word for it. Snape's quarters were friendly, warm and inviting. Something that Harry did not want to associate with the man.

A small smirk played on the man's lips, "Contrary to what you think, I am a human and do prefer to live in a nice place."

Harry laughed, he was feeling completely out of place, with no one but Snape to keep him company.

With a soft pop, Misty returned with two huge plates filled to the brim with food.

She placed them down onto the table and turned to Snape, "Anything else master professor Snape?" She asked.

"Nothing else, thank you Misty."

Her face brightened into a wide grin and she bowed before popping away.

"Master professor Snap?" Harry asked with his eyebrows raised. The house elf really was overdoing it with the titles.

"I've tried to stop her calling me that," Snape answered and didn't explain any further.

Harry looked down to the plat in front of him. Ther was no way that he was going to be able to finish all of it. There were heaps of mashed potatoes and piles of peas, about five lamb chops were sitting neatly on the edge of the plate, amongst various other vegetable and all of it was drizzled in sauce.

His stomach growled and his mouth was beginning to water at the sight of such wonderful food. He breathed in deeply and the amazing smell wafted into his nose. He was really going to enjoy his meal.

The knife and fork clinked against the ceramic plate as he sat them down neatly. He hadn't managed to finish everything, but he knew that if he ate more he would not be able to keep it all down. He felt so full at the moment, yet there was still so much more left on his plate.

"You need to eat more," Snape said.

"I'm sorry sir, I'm full."

Snape sounded like a caring mother that was trying to get their toddler to eat. Okay, he sounded like the Snape-ish version of a mother trying to get her toddler to eat, but he was still sounding like one. That did confuse Harry and he wanted to know why Snape was saying stuff like that.

Was it possibly linked with what Snape was meant to tell him?

"Sir, you said you would tell me the reason why you took me from the Dursleys when we got back to Hogwarts," Harry pointed out.

"That I did." Snape paused and they stayed in silence for a while as he figured out how to word his explanation. The fireplace crackled merrily and Harry found it quite funny that Snape had two fireplaces, one for travel and one for just being a fireplace.

"Harry," Snape's voice sounded odd as it said his first name, and first name only, "I have come across the information that I am," he paused as he tried to get the words out," Your father."

"You're pulling my leg, what's the truth then?" Harry had the insane urge to laugh at Snape. The first time that he made ever made a joke in front of Harry was now of all times. When he was waiting in anticipation to hear why Snape was being forced to take Harry away from the Dursleys.

He looked up at Snape, the man wasn't pulling his leg. His face was serious and Harry sought for any form of emotion in the man's eyes.

"Y-you're not pulling my leg...are you?"

"I'm afraid not Harry."

Snape looked resigned. Harry wasn't sure how he could tell but he could definitely see it in the way the man's expression closed off even more and he was left looking at what could be confused for a blank slate. So Snape wasn't happy that he was Harry's father, if he was Harry's father even. It could all just be some trick. He would have to speak to Dumbledore or something.

He had a father that wasn't dead.

Somehow the words just didn't fit in his mind.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked. Snape had known for years that he was Harry's father and instead of telling him he had sent scathing remarks to him every potions lesson and accused him of being an attention seeker at every turn.

It was unfair that he was resigned to living a life that tried to trip him up at every turn. He was famous for something he couldn't even remember doing, people either worshipped him or detested him. Right now he felt like Fate's personal plaything.

"I...I didn't know until recently." Snape put Harry's plate on top of his and pushed it to the one side of the table. Probably for one of the house elves to collect later on.

"You're lying," Harry accused Snape. His voice trembled slightly. How had he been so stupid as to think that Snape was telling the truth, "I don't look like you at all, I look like my father. Everyone says so, even you."

Inside he smirked triumphantly. He had gotten his mind out of whatever trap Snape had put it into. No longer was he a slave to Snape's machinations.

Harry stood up and haphazardly straightened out his clothes, "I'm going to Dumbledore."

Snape stood up and opened the door. Harry made eye contact with the man for a moment and his plan of action stuttered for a millisecond. He walked out of the door and into the hallway.

Only to realise that he didn't know where he was.

Harry turned around to see Snape standing just in his doorway with his arms folded over his chest.

"Where is Dumbledore's office?" Harry asked.

"I'll lead you there," Snape said and he began to walk quickly down the corridor that they had come out in.

Where in the castle was he even? Harry wasn't sure. He did know that he was in the dungeons, just not where he exactly was in the dungeons.

After a few more moments Harry startled into movement as he realised that Snape was about to turn a bend without him even following. He may not know where he was but he still was not going to let himself be left completely alone in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

If only he had the Marauder's Map. Then he would be able to see exactly where he was in the castle. He could even use a few shortcuts to speed up his journey to Dumbledore's office.

But no, he was stuck following Snape as the man walked at a much too quick pace towards what he hoped was Dumbledore's office.

As they climbed a few more staircases Harry was beginning to recognise more and more of the castle. Now at least he would be able to tell if he was going in the wrong direction or not. The halls felt empty as they went through them and Harry had to fight down a shiver at how eerie the castle was at night when he knew that no one else other than him and some of the teachers were in it.

"Liquorice allsorts," Snape said to the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. It immediately jumped out of the way and now they would have to scale the stairs. For the first time since they started walking, Snape looked towards Harry and they began their ascent.

There were quite a few stairs and Harry wondered what point there was as to there being so many stairs to one's office. It would have been so much easier if they had just magicked it into a shorter distance or something. Surely something like that was possible? It was magic that they were talking about.

"Good evening Severus, Harry," Dumbledore said from behind his desk.

Once again Harry was in awe as he looked around the office. It was quite plain, but there were so many trinkets that were scattered over the huge shelves and Harry wished that he knew what all of them were for. Behind the headmaster, the wall was coated with portraits of all the previous headmasters that Hogwarts had had during the time since she was built. One day Dumbledore would be there. The thought scared Harry just the slightest bit.

"Good evening Albus," Snape said. He continued to stand.

"Hello headmaster.," Harry said as his greeting.

"Would you like a lemon drop?" Dumbledore held out a bowl of the aforementioned sweets, "No? Well then please have a seat. I can't have two of my favourite people standing while I'm sitting."

Snape huffed at what Dumbledore said, but took a seat anyways. Harry followed suit and relaxed in the uncomfortably soft seat that he had taken.

"So what bring you two to my office at this hour?" Dumbledore asked. He leaned forward in his seat, interested to hear their story.

"Would you please explain to Mr Potter the circumstances to me bringing him to Hogwarts?" Was Snape's reply.

"Didn't you explain it to Harry?"

"He chooses not to believe me."

Harry pulled himself to the edge of his seat and turned his attention towards Snape, "You didn't explain it to me at all! What kind of explanation is 'I am your father'? This is real life not some kind of sci-fi fantasy."

Dumbledore chuckled and fixed up his glasses. He popped a lemon drop into his mouth before talking, "As with Severus, I have only just been made aware of the news myself. However, I do have a few more pieces of the puzzle than he has."

Snape growled at Dumbledore and muttered something under his breath along the lines of 'insufferable old coot'. Harry didn't quite catch it.

"I'm sorry Severus. I didn't know the entirety of the story when I explained it to you. I was planning to call both of you up to my office to tell you tomorrow."

Snape glared at Dumbledore and Harry could almost imagine a thundercloud forming above the dour man's head, "Would you like to share the information with us?"

Harry could easily agree with Snape's statement, he turned his attention to Dumbledore and could easily see the twinkle in his eyes.

"It appears the charms on Harry are not permanent and when he turns sixteen," Dumbledore turned to face Harry and addressed him personally for one of the first times that evening, "You are going to begin to look like Severus as time goes on."

Harry was dumbstruck. He was going to be sixteen in less than a year. In less than a year he was going to start looking like Snape.

"Isn't there a way to stop it, sir?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid not. Making any physical changes permanent would involve dark magic that would leave your magical core tainted and even affect your personality." Dumbledore said apologetically.

"Are you sure?"

"I am quite sure, Harry."

Dumbledore made a show out of checking his pocket watch. From Harry's perspective he was easily able to see that it was not ordinary pocket watch and like many wizarding clocks it had labels instead of hours, but from his vantage point, he was unable to see exactly what the clock said.

"Now it is getting quite late," Dumbledore began, "And as an old man I must retire early. We can continue our discussion in the morning over breakfast. I know you quite like a good cup of coffee in the morning, don't you Severus?"


	4. Chapter 4

-Lily & James POV, 1979-

"If you want a baby so badly we'll need to get a, donor," Lily said, her hand rested against her forehead and she slowly pushed food around her plate.

"You mean I'm-"

"Completely infertile." Lily finished for him.

Sure they were young, but they were in the middle of the war. The idea of putting off a family was just preposterous. In Lily's life plan she always wanted to have her children by the age of twenty-four. Two children, a boy and a girl. No more than three years between them so that there wouldn't be too much of an age gap and they could be close.

Of course Lily knew very well that life didn't always work out that way, not even when you had magic to push things along. At most she could influence the gender of her child using a vaguely dark ritual that she preferred not to use. She was a strictly light magic kind of person.

"Then who could we use?" James asked. His breakfast was also uneaten, the eggs were cold and his morning coffee was tepid.

It was becoming a common issue with pureblood families. More and more purebloods were infertile. They also went to lengths to hide their issues and would do the next best thing: Manipulate someone else's seed into mimicking their own in order to provide genetic material to create an heir.

The spells involved were classed as grey and the semi-permanent glamours were also bordering dark. Still, in Lily's opinion, the spells weren't actually dark and they were being used for good, unlike a lot of spells. She was a self-labelled 'strictly light' witch, but even she could see that intent coloured the spells a lot more than people's connotations did.

A few weeks ago Lily had done a test using James' magic to try and find the closest match genetically. In the Wizarding World there had to be someone who shared some lineage with James and she needed the connection, otherwise, the spell to create the semi-permanent glamour wouldn't work as it would have nothing to work on.

"Severus was the closest match." Lily braced herself for James' expected reaction.

As she had expected, he did not react well. The cold cup of coffee he had been fondling in his hands was placed down violently and he leaned forward with the motion.

"What?" He half-shouted.

"I did the test the other day and he was the closest match after Sirius." Lily's eyes flitted to everywhere but James.

"You're pulling my leg."

"I'm not, after Severus there isn't enough of a link to work with," she sighed. Sirius was out of the question, like James, he was also unable to sire any children.

James took a sip of his cold coffee and pulled a face before putting it back down, "Are you sure, sure?" He asked.

Lily nodded, "I'm very sure. Once he's sixteen we can always renew the charms with yours and his magic."

After sixteen years the semi-permanent glamour would start to wear off. The only was to reapply it would be to use the actual father's magic, in this case, it would be Severus, in conjunction with James' in order to renew the power behind the glamour. If either of them died they would be unable to renew the glamour. It was a risk Lily was willing to take. There was a large probability of Severus being found out as a spy and then he would be punished severely and most likely lose his life. The idea of not having a child at all frightened her even more.

"I'm still not- Are you really sure that Snivellus is related to me even?" By now he had relaxed slightly and was sitting slouched in his chair.

"You know how I feel about that nickname, anyways, I am sure. I even redid the tests with two different objects."

A simple way of figuring out someone's heritage would be to use an object that had been magically changed or was close to the person in question. A person's magical signature held a large amount of information and could determine illnesses, past injuries and even current emotional state, as well as their lineage. It was a wonderful test, but could only be done by someone whom the person was close to, even if it was done without the person's consent. Luckily, Lily fell into the circle of James' closest friends and was his wife. If she didn't there would be trouble, and it wouldn't be about the spell not working.

"I'm not calling the bastard by anything else."

"James, you know how much he's helped us. Without him, I don't think the order would even function." She bit her lip.

"I don't care, to me, he's still Snivelus. And why are you defending him? You're not even friends with him anymore." James stood up suddenly and his chair scraped behind him. The force behind his movement caused the chair to continue in its path for a very short distance before stopping.

"I still don't want to call him childish names."

James began to gather his half-eaten food. He never usually did that, preferring to ask a house elf to take the dishes to the kitchen. James had been raised in a household where that was the norm,

"There's a difference between a childish feud and a professional relationship. Just because you don't like him as a person doesn't mean you can't respect him." Lily elaborated.

James was already on his way to the kitchen when he turned around and faced Lily, "You talk of respecting him, but you mustn't forget that you've also been 'disrespectful' to him," He turned around and continued to the kitchen.

By now Lily had worried her lip enough for it to hurt slightly. James had been right. After she and Severus had fallen out in her fifth year she had grown closer to James and his friends, eventually ending up with hr joining in with their remarks against Severus. She hadn't done or said anything that would drastically hurt him, but - she paused her train of thought. It had been her way of getting him back for calling her a mudblood.

Now that she looked back on it, five years later, she could clearly see the stress Severus had been feeling at the time. Back then she had not given a moment of thought towards how Severus had been feeling. During her fifth year, Voldemort had already been working on recruiting her year mates in Slytherin as Death Eaters.

It was stupid of her to think that he wasn't aiming for Severus, already well-renowned with his spell creation and potion work at the time, even if he was a half-blood. The man – boy at that time – had some real potential and whoever didn't see it, was blind.

She put her head into her hand and sighed, "You're right, and you know... it's something I regret to this day."

"You can't take back the past though," James laughed, a humourless one that sounded more like a bleat than anything.

If Lily had have been paying attention to James in that moment she would have been able to catch a small flicker of resentment that passed along his face as a shadow, she would have been able to see the stutter in his movements as he walked past her and towards the staircase that led to their room, a spare room and what was going to be their child's room.

When they had a child that is.

It all depended on Severus agreeing to her request. If he didn't they would be unable to do anything – her mind was once again reminded of the fact that there were no close relations to James that were eligiable.

When she had done the test she had been quite surprised to see the name Eileen Prince drip downwards to form Severus Snape when she had been expecting names like Malfoy, Black, and even Dumbledore. They had also appeared on the list, but she had not been expecting Severus.

She just wished she didn't have to ask him for such a large favour after their falling out. The chair slid along the floor as she stood up and followed James up the stairs, even as the tensions between light and dark grew, a job was still necessary. The Potter family fund was being reduced exponentially as Galleon after Galleon was being poured into the Order of the Phoenix.

The dark wooden detailings on most of the walls and the warm fireplace that crackled gaily in the corner of the lounge made Lily's home feel a lot warmer than she felt. Every time the topic of children, death, the war, You Know Who, or nearly every other topic was brought up, Lily felt the pit of her stomach grow into a gnashing, snarling monster.

There was no way of knowing if everything was going to work out in the end. There was no way of knowing what the death toll would be when the light prevailed, if they prevailed. The staircase creaked as she climbed them. The sound oddly comforting, it reminded her of the floorboards in her childhood home that made similar sounds. It had been a lot more simple then. Before she was a witch and all she knew of magic was a man in a tux yelling 'Abracadabra!' as he pulled a rabbit out of a hat.

As she entered the room she instantly spotted James undoing his tie before redoing it. She shook her head, slightly humoured by the sight. Even after nearly a decade of wearing a tie daily she still caught James hurriedly slipping the knot loose as he found the back end too short or the knot itself to be unsatisfactory. Neither her nor James were in the habit of showering in the morning and preferred to do it at night, sometimes together. She stood in front of her dressing table and her fingers deftly braided her copper red hear into something neater.

Working at St. Mungo's was hard work, but she had aspired to do so her entire life. The idea of joining James in his career as an Auror had passed her mind once or twice, but she would rather work behind the scenes to save lives. It wasn't the confrontations that came with the job that deterred her, she was not half bad at duelling if she could say so herself, but rather the... reckless abandon that seemed to ooze from the job and grip every idea she had of it.

It less than a minute later that her hair was tied up in a neat braid. She turned to James, "What time do you think you'll be home?"

James thought for a moment before replying, "I have that meeting with Kingsley to discuss order stuff. After that, I think about seven or so."

"Oh, okay." While it wasn't the latest James had come home from work, it was still a good few hours after the time that most other Aurors left. She hated how little she got to see him, with just a sliver of time in the morning and night, coupled with the order meetings. It felt as if all she was doing was working and struggling to keep her relationship with James.

They weren't going to break up anytime soon, but she was sure that even James had noticed that they were beginning to take strain from all the happenings.

"You know how much I want to leave early, but I can't-" He stopped mid-sentence, not knowing what else to say.

"I know. It won't be long before we can spend all the time we want together."

James smiled slightly, "After we get rid of him I'll take a year's leave and we can go to the seaside nearly every day, just to watch the waves for the hell of it, I'll take you on all the dates I still want to take you on and we can really start on the list of places to shag," he finishe with a large, overly dramatic wink.

"You really know how to make me feel better," Lily couldn't help but laugh. The sound was light and airy and she was beginning to smile even more than she already was when James' face lit up like a large lightbulb at her reaction. Those were the things he always promised her, even before they and graduated from Hogwarts and before the fabled list of 'places to shag' was even created. Even three years later she drew comfort from those simple promises.

"I'll see you after work then?" He asked.

"There'll be treacle tart for dessert."

James held her in a tight embrace and kissed her goodbye. For just a few moments he held on and rested his chin on top of hers. Lily was torn between feeling comforted and slightly awkward.

"It'll all work out," He whispered quietly. So quietly that Lily had trouble hearing it. In that moment she chose to believe him because no matter what happened she and James would make it through it, whether it be the war or their troubles with having a baby.

It was all going to work out.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry's head felt as if it had been filled with cotton and he swallowed a few times to try and get his mouth to stop feeling as dry as it was. Dumbledore had just shown him a memory in something he had called a pensieve.

He continued to stare sullenly at the large bowl in front of him. The murky blue liquid continued to swirl in an undecipherable pattern as if someone had taken it upon themself to stir the liquid memories to keep them moving and change up the direction they were moving the stirring rod every now and then.

It was still hard to believe. That had been a memory of his parents that he had seen. He had seen them in their everyday life, eating breakfast and talking about the future.

Talking about their inability to have a future without intervening with fate, and they had succeeded. Harry was standing right here, in front of Dumbledore and his expectant look that pulled up feelings of anger that Harry tried to push down and barely succeeded.

Harry turned to face Dumbledore with his entire body, while his hands gripped the edge of the pensieve with more force than he should be exerting on a (probably) priceless artefact. He didn't even know if it was out of fear or anger or some ambivalent mixture of both.

Dumbledore had obviously tired of waiting for Harry to speak first, "Do you have any more questions my boy?"

Harry hated it when Dumbledore called him his boy, he knew it wasn't meant in a bad way but the word was not one he liked very much. He opened his mouth and closed it again. There were just so many questions that were running through his head and he didn't even know how to ask them. He didn't understand half of what had happened in the memory, there were so many small things that didn't make sense.

What was up with Dumbledore trying to dodge the long overdue explanation? Breakfast hadn't been better either with Dumbledore smirking, more to himself than anything, as he told Harry he would explain it after breakfast in his office. Last night had been the same, with Dumbledore putting off explaining things by saying that it would be explained at breakfast.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions rolling around your head. Just start from the beginning and I'm sure that we'll be through before lunch. If not, then I can always have it delivered to us." He smiled in a grandfatherly way.

Harry like Dumbledore, he really did. But he just had this feeling that Dumbledore liked to have the responsibility of everything, like if he gave others tasks they would mess it up and Dumbledore would be left feeling guilty for others' failures. Harry knew that it wasn't healthy to live like that. Even though he ignored the fact that he was falling into the exact same trap when it came to sharing his grievances with others.

"Why didn't Snape know?" Harry asked after a good few moments of contemplating on what the most important question was.

Dumbledore paused and Harry could immediately tell that he was not going to like what he was going to hear, "Severus is a," he fixed his glasses and that made Harry even more nervous, "Spy for the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry's brow's knitted together in confusion. The Order of the Pheonix? He had never heard of them before. Dumbledore must have seen the confusion very clearly on his face because he continued.

"The Order of the Pheonix is a group of people that were devoted to defeating Voldemort in the first war. Your parents were a part of it, along with Severus and the parents of quite a few of your friends."

Dumbledore had said first war, as if he believed that there would be a second one. There wouldn't be, would there? If Dumbledore believed it then it could quite possibly be true. But at the moment Harry was more curious about what Dumbledore had meant by calling Snape a spy.

"What do you mean that Snape was a spy?" Harry asked. He has a feeling that he was going to be asking a lot of questions.

"He was the only person in the Order that had a direct link to Voldemort and his plans. He aided us greatly in preparing for attacks that would have resulted in a lot more casualties if we hadn't been warned."

"So he was a Death Eater?"

Dumbledore paused again, "Severus has made mistakes in his younger years, but he does regret them."

Harry met Dumbledore's eyes for just a second and sighed, "Sir, what does this have about Snape not knowing?"

"Snape offered to have the memories obliviated from himself in order to protect your mother and you." A note of sorrow resonated through his voice.

Harry didn't even think before he asked his next question, "Will Snape be able to get his memories back?"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore corrected, "I'm afraid not. Once a memory is obliviated it is impossible to retrieve it."

If obliviated memories were gone forever then, "That means Professor Lockhart is going to be stuck in St. Mungo's forever?"

"Unfortunately, you are correct Harry." Dumbledore stopped speaking,

"It must be really scary to permanently give up your own memories," Harry mused.

"And that is why you must be grateful to Professor Snape. He gave up a part of himself so that you and Lily could live."

"What a load of good that did," Harry grumbled to himself. His mom was still dead, his father – er, biological father – was also in the same predicament. While he could understand the basis behind Snape's actions it still didn't bring attention away from the fact that his 'parents' were dead.

"It was out of Snape's control what happened next-"

The abrupt end to Dumbeldore's sentence clued Harry about there being something else going on that he wasn't being told, but if Dumbledore wasn't ready to tell him, there was no getting the information out of the man.

"How did you find out?"

"Find out about?" Dumbledore replied.

How was he going to say it?

"The, whole...Snape is my dad thing." Harry had let go of the pensieve a while back and now had his hands in the robes of his pockets while he shifted from foot to foot and waited for Dumbledore to reply.

"Lily, as a student, was downright resourceful. That trait of hers followed her well into adulthood. She was also a person who prided herself on having a plan for every outcome. Such as when both she and James would be unable to explain to you your real parentage. Do you have any idea of what she could have done Harry?"

Somehow being asked a question like that in the middle of Dumbledore's explanation made Harry feel more like a student than anything else. Still, he replied, it was stupid to not answer a teacher when they asked a question, "Did my mom do something like a, like a-" He sought for a suitable explanation for what he was trying to describe.

"The charm you put on the Mirror of Erised?" Harry finished off, unsure. Dumbledore had put a charm on the mirror that would notify him if anyone had entered the room, that was when it was still easily accessible to Harry in the castle. He couldn't quite remember the incantation, all he knew that it was a long one.

"You really are your mother's child," Dumbledore said and Harry couldn't help but smile, "It was a nifty bit of magic she used that was a lot simpler to perform than a time delay spell, despite sounding more complicated. She had managed to change the spell so that instead of giving her the mental reminder it would instead channel to the hiding place she had chosen for the pensieve memory.

"The alert charm works by sending a magical pulse to the person who sent it. In this case, it set off a magically sensitive charm that portkeyed the memory to me. A time delay would have needed the person to constantly be feeding a portion of their magic into it – the reason why it is only used short term."

The way Dumbledore had spoken of his mom, it was as if she was some kind of magical prodigy. Maybe why the teachers seemed so despondent when he was only average in his classes. That, and the fact that he was the saviour of the wizarding world – a two-metre tall fifteen-year-old, with the hobby of spouting witty catchphrases everytime he saved a redhaired heroine from certain death using nothing but his copyrighted 'sunshine smile' and riding into the distance on a golden griffin. The pages Ron stole from Ginny's diary terrified him at times.

Dumbledore chuckled before speaking, "Both Lily and Severus were smart for their age, both of them battling for first in both of their classes. I have no doubt that if Lily were still alive, she would be extremely proud of what a wonderful young man you have grown into."

Sometimes Harry swore Dumbledore could read his mind. Dumbledore laughed again and Harry's hypothesis was further confirmed.

Instead of saying anything else he smiled even wider than he had been, "Thank you, sir." Harry really meant that. Any piece of information about his mother and – James, though he technically wasn't his father anymore – was still important to him.

After a few more questions that Dumbledore answered dutifully, Harry was beginning to feel the enormous amount of questions banging around his head slow down to a lazy trickle.

Harry watched as Dumbledore checked his odd pocketwatch before turning to look at Harry, "I'm sure you've spent more time than you want to with an old man like with me. You should join Severus in the Great Hall for lunch."

Harry nodded and stood up from the chair Dumbledore had offered to him earlier in their conversation, "Thank you, sir. For explaining the stuff to me, and that story about when dad – err, James and his friends managed to flood all the floors of Hogwarts."

He was about to leave when Dumbledore called out to him, "Harry, You mustn't forget, that while Severus is your biological father, it doesn't make James any less of a father to you than he was to you before. He loved you like a son because to him, you were his son. Even if you weren't his genetic son."

Harry nodded before turning and leaving Dumbledore's office and began to make his way down the seemingly endless staircase that led up to it. Maybe that was Dumbeldore's secret to living so long. Walking up and down the staircase many times a day was surely good cardio and Harry's legs were not enjoying it for the second day in the row. It just proved how unfit he was from the holidays.

Tomorrow he and Snape were going to go to Diagon alley to get his school supplies for his fifth year at Hogwarts. Something that would have excited him previously, but was not causing tumultuous turns in his stomach. Every year something big happened at Hogwarts and every year the events were getting more and more life-threatening.

He turned right was then met with a staircase. He waved to one of the portraits he had seen wandering around the castle many times before starting on going down even more stairs and slipping back into his thoughts.

Last year Cedric Diggory had died – the thought still sent a knife through his heart, it had been his fault, hadn't it? He wanted to share the stupid cup. He sighed, hopefully, there wouldn't be any more deaths this year. The idea of losing someone close to him, like Ron or Hermione, was just something he could not bare.

Eventually, he made it the the Great Hall and easily spotted Snape having lunch by himself at the staff table. The students' tables would have begun to gather dust if the house elves had not kept up with their daily cleaning of the castle from top to bottom. Only the staff table was used during the summer holidays as there weren't any students, apart from Harry at the moment, that were at the school during the holidays.

"Hello, sir!" Harry greeted cheerily. If Snape was his father he might as well try to be slightly nicer to the man. He had taken him from the Dursleys after all. That was something to be grateful for, "Are you ready for Diagon Alley tomorrow? Because first I want to spend the entire morning in Quality Quidditch Supplies, followed by the most expensive ice cream from Fortescue's and to top it all of, there's a golden cauldron I've been eyeing for a while." Harry laughed loudly and pulled up a chair next to Snape.

Snape paused, a forkful of shepherd's pie halfway to his mouth, "And what caused this change? One too many lemon drops?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

 **By the way, thank you x100 to everyone who's read this so far and thank you x1,000 to those who've left reviews! If there's anything you're unsure on, I beg of thee to leave a review telling me what it is so I can fix it up. Also if there's stuff you don't/do like please tell me.**

 **Thank you and have an awesome day!**


	6. Chapter 6

To say that Harry was giddy with excitement would be a severe understatement. The beginning of the school year had always been something he looked for – especially because he managed to get to spend some time in Diagon Alley. The amount of magic in the place was intoxicating and the sheer amount of different shops to go and peek in was enough to keep him entertained for years.

His mind wandered back to yesterday. More specifically, the lunch with Professor Snape, who was now his father. He really could not believe it. He had a father, albeit, his most hated professor, but it was still a father. He had family outside of his aunt and uncle.

Yesterday began to play in his mind again.

Snape paused, a forkful of shepherd's pie halfway to his mouth, "And what caused this change? One too many lemon drops?"

Harry laughed before sitting down next to Snape, "If you're stuck taking care of me I might as well make an effort." It was true. After what was quite possibly Dumbledore's seventh or so lemon drop he had taken on a contemplative look before explaining to Harry that while he may dislike Professor Snape, there was always an opportunity for him to change his relationship for the better.

That thought had stayed on his mind during the walk to the Great Hall.

Snape hummed, "True. I might have half a mind to drop you back off at the Dursleys for any misbehaviour."

Harry paused midway through dumping a rather large serving of Sheperd's pie onto his plate.

"Of course that would only be in the event of any radical misbehaviour, say," he drew out the word, "Attempting to sabotage one of my Slytherin's potions. Anything else I'll have to refer you to Mr Filch for hat punishment he sees fit."

After a few moments of silence, it dawned on Harry like the early morning sun on a dew-covered spider web. In other words, very intense and almost impossible to misunderstand.

Snape- Professor Snape was also trying to be nice to him.

There was no way that he would be acting the way it was. The realisation had further hardened Harry's resolve to try and be the slightest bit nicer to his professor before writing him off.

If Dumbledore had have been there he would be sitting there with a mad twinkle in his eye and a 'cat got the cream' smirk on his face for succeeding in starting what could be a strong bond between Harry and Professor Snape. Of course, he was not there and Harry had no idea of the subtle hints that had influenced both him and Professor Snape into both attempting to be more...civil towards each other.

Their lighthearted mood had lasted for the entirety of the evening and even this morning Harry and Professor Snape were still on good terms. After checking that his robes were in order Harry made his way into professor Snape's lounge where the man was busy reading a potions book. The title couldn't quite be seen, but Harry did manage to catch the word 'potions' before professor Snape hurriedly put the book face down on the table beside the armchair he was sitting on.

"Uhh, sir wouldn't it be a bit weird if we just walked around like this?" Harry gestured to them both, it had been in his thoughts for a while. He had professor Snape still didn't really like each other, despite being on good terms for the moment, and when people had last seen them in a room, Professor Snape had been berating Harry over his 'appaling essay writing skills'. That had left Gryffindor 20 points less and Harry with an essay to rewrite, but the marks weren't going to be changed. There was also the issue of Snape pretending to be aligned with the dark.

Professor Snape gave him a look that made him feel like a bit of an idiot for asking such a question, he then stood up and fixed his robes in one swift movement. Today he was still wearing black robes, but they were a slightly different style to the robes he normally wore during the school term. Namely, less Greasy Git of the Dungeon and a more normal person that has a slightly sunnier disposition.

"And that is why we're putting on a glamour. It would not do me any good to be seen gallivanting around Diagon Alley with the boy who lived, would it?" Another flowing movement and professor Snape was holding his wand in his hand, "Any preferences for how you look?"

"No sir. will it hurt?" Harry's hands sought for something to do.

"A glamour won't hurt, it's an illusion meant to trick the eye. Now stand still."

Professor Snape muttered a spell and Harry felt a tingling sensation travel down his face and stop at his neck. Immediately his hand went to his face to feel if anything was different, but everything felt the exact same. With a wave of his wand, professor Snape conjured a mirror and passed it to Harry.

Harry took the mirror and began to inspect his face. His hair was more of an auburn colour and had been lengthened slightly, yet still maintaining a contrast with his now lighter skin. The structure of his cheeks, nose, and jaw was also changed, becoming sharper and more defined. His eyes stayed the same deep shade of green.

"Wouldn't powerful people like Dumbledore be able to see through a glamour if it's only an illusion?" Harry asked.

Professor Snape's wand stopped midair, "A glamour is not just an illusion to others, it temporarily causes your own magic to accept the form you are taking as the correct one. A powerful wizard is able to see glamours, but when a glamour is made using minimal changes it is nearly impossible to detect. Making it one of the most useful spells one could learn."

"But I look so different!" While the changes in Harry's face were small, there was no way that they were small enough to escape detection by others. He looked like a completely different person.

"I merely gave you some of my own features. Since half of your genetics comes from me, it was not as magic intensive as creating features from scratch," Professor Snape then waved his wand in the same pattern he had for Harry's glamour and said the same spell towards himself.

Harry watched, entranced as professor Snape's features slowly changed. With a less sallow skin tone, a less prominent nose and both shorter and lighter hair Snape looked like a completely different person.

After a few more moments Harry finally asked the question he had been meaning to, "Is this what I would look like without the semi-permanent glamour then?"

"I do not know. It is up to Fate to decide what features are passed down, but what you look like now could be a possibility. Only after the semi-permanent glamour begins to decay next year will we know." Professor Snape pocketed his wand.

"Are we using the floo, sir?" Harry asked.

"It will be the best option."

Harry still found Professor Snape's weird way of dancing around questions quite funny. Instead of just a simple yes or no, the man would instead say something that would sometimes need to be dissected before the actual answer was found.

"Okay, um, do you know what I need for next year?" Harry asked. During the holidays he had not gotten his stationery list.

Snape handed a piece of paper that had been folded once to Harry, "Don't lose it or you will have to guess what's on it and hope that you've guessed you books for the year correctly."

Harry took the offered piece of paper and unfolded it. He skimmed ovwer the list. All of his subjects were there and the books and supplies he needed for them. The paper was folded and placed inside one of the pockets on the inner of his robe.

"Shall we get going... Mr. Potter?" The pause that was before his name was drawn out, only for a little bit, and Harry wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

Anyways he smiled and walked over to professor Snape. His profesor gripped the lip of a small jar and opened it for Harry to grab a handful.

"I trust you can manage to find your way to Diagon Alley or are you in need of further instruction?" Proffessor Snape asked coarsley.

For a moment Harry considered snapping at the man. He had done so in the past, but not after so much had been done for him. So instead he revelled in the small sight of 'old Snape' and wondered if that meant the man who had been a lot kinder than him was going to disappear and be replaced once again by the Greasy Bat.

Harry took a pinch of the Floo powder and threw it in dramatically – it just seemed to work better from Harry's limited exerience.

"Diagon Alley!" He said, also, in a tad too dramatic of a tone.

At least it had worked and Harry found himself standing outside of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron and taking in the atmosphere. The smoky air had not changed and his lungs still felt constricted as he tried to control his breathing a bit. Loud noises assaulted his ears and he fought to not cover them at the horrendous din.

A few seconds later professor Snape came out of the Floo, looking a lot more composed than Harry as he merely brushed a bit of soot off his shoulder and walked up to where Harry was standing, "Shall we go?" He asked.

"Do you think we can get the books first, that way the worst of the stuff will be done quickly. But money... Do you think we could make a trip to my Gringott's vault? I'm sure I have more than enough-"

Harry was interrupted by Snape, "You are under my care. I am not going to let you pay for your own school replies."

"But why, sir?" Harry cocked his head to the side.

Professor Snape's expression changed. Like when clouds suddenly covered the sun on a windy day before passing and leaving the sun to shine once again. The change of demeanour confused Harry slightly.

"No child should have to ever pay for themselves."

Harry was about to argue the fact that he wasn't a child but stopped before he could voice his opinion. He decided to nod in agreement and wait for professor Snape to decide on where they were going next.

"Flourish and Blotts will be our first stop," Professor Snape said. Damn, it was as if the man was really reading his mind.

They were walking on the path when Harry turned to Professor Snape, "Do we get to use fake names?" He asked. There were very few people walking around the streets this early on a Monday morning other than the few people scurrying from place to place. It was enjoyable to be able to stroll around without being recognised.

"If you really want to." Professor Snape agreed reluctantly.

"Okay, umm what about John? That seems to be quite a common one. Though when paired with Smith it just becomes plain suspicious.


	7. Chapter 7

Professor snape shrunk harry's books and passed them to him. Harry smiled gratefully as he took them and pocketed them. It was still weird to be seeing his professor look so different. Harry knew that it was proffessor Snape, but whenever he looked at the man he had to double take.

He was sure that professor Snape felt the same way about him, or maybe he was used to it.

"Thank you," Harry said as they exited the shop. Professor Snape had stuck to his word and had not asked for any payment from Harry for his school books for the school year. Harry honestly didn't know how he felt about that. The notion of professor Snape paying for him tugged at his heart, he wasn't used to that kind of generosity, but at the same time it made him feel agitated. He was so used to always being completely responsible for himself that this sort of dependency made him feel uncomfortable.

"You're welcome Harry."

Hearing his name come from professor Snape was quite odd. His creativity had failed him and he has decided upon the extremely inventive name of Harry, his actual name. There wasn't much harm in it. Harry wasn't an uncommon name so there was not issue if he just happened to 'share' it with Harry Potter.

Professor Snape on the other hand had refused to go under some made up name, stating that Harry could call himself Albus for all he cared, but he was not going to suffer under a spur of the moment name. It was perfectly possible for Harry to survive two hours without Harry's name.

Harry had thought professor Snape had been a buzzkill, but if he was expecting anything different he would be out of his mind. Harry fell into step with professor Snape and they passed the entrance to Fortescue's and headed straight for Slug and Jiggers.

"My list doesn't say anything about potions ingredients." Harry said. He dug in his pockets for the list and double checked it.

"You are, however, going to be practising for the upcoming school year." Professor Snape opened the door and the bell jingled. Harry stepped in, the various smells of the ingredients on the shelves assaulting his nose and causing him to sneeze.

"How can I help?" The attendant behind the counter asked. Harry swore that he could recognise him. Maybe he was a seventh year or something. Harry didn't know the older students in Hogwarts all that well.

Professor Snape handed a list to the man, "I would like you to put these aside for me. I will be coming later to fetch them and I will know if something is not good quality."

The man hurriedly took the paper and tripped over his feet to get the igredients professor Snape had listed on the paper. They walked out to the sound of him scurrying in the back cupboards so some or other ingredient.

"Did you have to threaten him?" Harry asked.

"Would you rather lose your face due to idiotic mistakes?" Proffessor Snape retorted.

Harry paused for a moment, "Good idea."

They had spent a bit longer in Diagon Alley and had even popped into Quality Quidditch Supplied much to professor Snape's conternation. Though Harry had left with a book that detailed the steps behind making a broom for oneself and they various different ways to do it.

Harry smiled slightly as he held the packet with the book tightly. He had decided against shrinking it, preferring to hold it in his hand ans swing it slightly as they walked. There was just something about getting it that made Harry giddy. Maybe it was because professor Snape had gotten him something he wanted or maybe it was the price tag that would have normally made Harry shy away (professor Snape had insisted with the excuse that it wasn't nonsense and thus it made the purchase justified).

It was probably a mixture of everything. They had gone to pick up the ingredients from Slug and Jiggers, the man that professor Snape had talked to previously had been left in a bit of a state as he fired off questions about the quality of certain ingredients and then managed to haggle the price down to a portion of what it had been previously.

When professor Snape's ire wasn't focused on him it was absolutely hilarious to watch nearly grown men stutter and look terrified under his glare. At one point professor Snape had been called sir. While it wasn't uncommon to hear those sorts of formalities in the wizarding world it just seemed like the kid wasn't the sort of person to call someone sir unless he had to.

After a sympathetic parting glance from him, both Harry and professor Snape left the store and after a few moments of talking, they had decided that it would be best to go back to the castle for lunch. Harry could also drop off his things and start sorting through them for the upcoming school year that was slowly inching closer.

The Floo had spat him out violently, but Harry was pretty sure that he was starting to get the hang of it. This time he had managed to get his hands out in time to save himself from the imminent face plant. Maybe one day he would be able to do it was gracefully as proffessor Snape.

"What are we gonna eat for lunch?" Harry asked. He had already started to take out the books that were shrunken and put them on top of the book on brooms— _Broomsticks and Evverything you Need to Make One by_ _Besem_ _St_ _o_ _kkie._

"Going to not 'gonna'. Please don't fall victim to the pitfall of adolenscence at butchering the English language."

Harry shrugged, "So what are we going to eat for lunch?" He corrected himself and waited for an answer from professor Snape.

"It's your decison." Professor Snape said nonchalantly. He had taken Harry's 'practice' ingredients and had begun to sort through them. There weren't many, Harry estimated that about three potions would be made with the amount of ingredients in the container.

"Do you think you could unshrink my books. I don't know the spell for that. Also I'm pretty sure I can't use magic even though I'm in Hogwarts, the school year hasn't started yet."

" _Engorgio!"_ The books grew to their original size, "I highly doubt that any magic you do within Hogwarts would be picked up by the Ministry of Magic. Though I would err way from any high-power spells."

"Okay." Harry took his books and carried them to his room.

There weren't any good places for him to place them so he settled with placing them in a neat-ish pile on the desk next to his bed. They looked like they were going to topple over any moment, but Harry wasn't going to let himself be bothered unless they actually fell.

Everything just felt so surreal to him. Harry would have never thought that his situation would have changed so drastically within a few days. He still had to owl Hermione and Ron. Though he wasn't going to tell them about Snape being his father until he was able to see them in person when the school term started.

He could always ask Professor Snape to see them before the term started. There was still a while and he was pretty sure that he was going to become stir-crazy at some point. Sure Hogwarts was interesting and all, but at least with the Dursleys he was able to escape into the local park for a few hours once in a while.

Despite all the proof that had back the whole story about professor Snape being his father, Harry still felt a shadow of doubt flitting at the corners of his mind and remaining ever-present when ever he was with the man. It was a novelty to have someone that was actually looking after him.

Even if Professor Snape hadn't been caring for him for long, he has still done better than the Dursleys had in fifteen years. He started to chew the inside of his cheek as he decided to fix the books. He didn't want to accept Professor Snape as his father so easily.

It didn't make sense at all. This was one of the people he hated the most and here he was playing house with the man. Well he technically wasn't _playing_ anything. It was reality and he was not going to be able to change it whether he liked it or not.

He'd never had anybody that he could call family. True family. Not whatever the Dursley's were. He swallowed, maybe that was why he wanted to accept Professor Snape as his father despite not actually wanting to. It was the first time that an adult had been to nice to him.

Mrs. Figg hadn't been a bad person, but aside from biscuits every now and then as well as taking care of him when he didn't go on holiday with the Dursleys, she hadn't done major things in his life. Hagrid had just introduced him to the Wizarding World and had bought him Hedwig, which was very kind of him.

Though it didn't live up to what Professor Snape had done, what he was doing. Even if he was trying to hide it, Harry wasn't stupid and could see the conflict within the man despite him being nothing but nice to him since he had knocked on the door that fateful day at the Dursley's.

A knock on his open door pulled Harry out of his musings. "Yes?" He asked.

"Do you want lunch or not?" Professor Snape asked. It had been a while since he had gone up to his room. Professor Snape had already changed into his usual robes and his glamour had been taken off.

"I've still got my glamour on. Can you please take it off, sir?" Somehow the word 'sire' didn't feel as tacked on as it usually did.

Professor Snape nodded and then he was suddenly holding his wand, Harry didn't know where he was keeping it, and muttered the counter-spell. Harry didn't catch what he said as the tingling feeling spread over his skin. This time it was worse, like getting pins and needles in one's leg after they fell asleep and every movement caused it to worsen, after a few moments it settled down and Harry's hands immediately went up to his face again.

"I assure you that you look just like youself." Professor Snape seemed to be smirking slightly at Harry's reaction to having the glamour removed.

"I'm sorry it's just so weird to think that I was looking completely different a bit back." Harry's hands flew down to his sides and he started to walke outside of his room.

Professor Snape got out of the doorway to let Harry though. "Though it is a perfectly normal reaction the first few times. I take it you'll start reading through your textbooks before the year begins?" He looked pointedly towards the neatened pile on Harry's desk.

Up until that moment the thought of starting to learn before the school year hadn't crossed Harry's mind, but now that Professor Snape had brought it up maybe he should start. It would definitely help him with understanding some of the more difficult theory and the beginning of term worload would be lifted slightly off his shoulders.

"I will, definitely. What about you wanting me to improve in potions?" Hary asked.

Professor Snape turned to face Harry, "As with usual, I will not allow tardiness. I'll walk you through a potion every second day in my personal lab, starting tomorrow at five o' clock in the afternoon."

"I'll make sure I'm not late." Of course Proffessor Snape would want him to be good in potions and as long as he treated Harry better in private than he had during the last four years of his schoollife he wasn't going to be bothered about it.


	8. Chapter 8

_Severus Snape – Present_

The firewhiskey had long since lost its fire while Severus glared at one of the few sentimental objects that he dared to keep, a picture of him and Lily. Lily was grinning madly and his expression only complimented hers. It was a relic of a long forgotten memory that Severus wouldn't have been able to recall if he had tried.

Over the past few days he had experienced a paradigm shift as he had become privy to information that he had not known previously. He sighed and leaned his forehead onto his palm. Severus didn't understand it completely himself, it was completely out out his control and he felt more like a young child being tossed about by the sea than the controlled man of thirty-five that he was.

He had just never expected to find himself enjoying having Harry Potter of all people as his son. While it was true that he has always wanted a son, he'd never had the time to start a family at a young age. Preferring to focus on living to his next meal and musing about when he was going to get married.

Though after a few years after the war he had hit the landmark age of twenty five and he still hadn't made any progress in that regard. He just hadn't felt the motivation necessary to put himself on the line as he tried to find a suitable partner. That had been when he had started to refer to it as _if_ he got married.

Once he hit the thirty year mark he had stopped even thinking about marriage in general. At thirty-five the concept of family to him was virtually unknown and he had lost all of his interest in having one. But now that Albus had explained the circumstances relating Harry's birth and how he was technically Harry's father and the idea of a family was looking promising to him.

He wanted to have a child. So that he could spoil him or her rotten and make sure that they would want for nothing. On their birthdays he would have bought mountains of presents that piled up and ended up being nearly taller than himself. Christmas time would have involved an extravagant feast and an over the top Christmas tree that would take at least half a day to put up and even longer to take down.

If there was anything that Severus could have done to keep any children he had from receiving the same childhood he had, Severus would have done it. Now he had Harry Potter and there were two sides that were warring within him. On one hand he wanted to despise Harry Potter and curse him and his father's ancestors, but on the other hand he wanted to right what wrongs he had seen the Dursleys do.

Just because he hated Harry Potter as James Potter's son didn't mean that he would have to hate Harry Potter as his own son. With some proper discipline that did not involve physical contact in any way whatsoever, Severus was sure that Harry could still be turned into a respectable young man that would make Severus proud to say that was his son. Even if he was a Gryffindor. But he was sure that he was getting a bit old for keeping house prejudices outside the classroom.

The sudden lightening of his mood alerted him to the imminent arrival of Albus' phoenix patronus. The senile old coot had always insisted on sending messages via patronus instead of using owl post like most normal people would have done with the excuse of Severus apparently needing a little bit of happiness in his life. Severus was happy enough. He didn't need any of the man's attempts to brighten his mood.

He tried to subtly hide the glass that was holding his firewhiskey as the patronus floated in through the solid wall and gilded around the room. Severus wasn't too sure what Albus was capable of with his patronus, but he still didn't feel comfortable with the idea that he might be able to see him whenever he sent his patronus, and he was even more uncomfortable with the idea of Albus seeing him drink. Even with full knowledge that he had been legally allowed to drink for years according to muggle standards.

"Severus, please meet me in my office, I wish to talk about Harry." The phoenix flapped its wings a few times as if circled through the room and eventually faded into nothingness.

He tipped back the last of the firewhiskey, cast a spell to freshen his breath, and straightened his robes out. It would not do too well for Albus to know exactly how much he had drunk that evening. At least Harry Potter was asleep in his room at this hour. Despite him being a typical teenager, he usually retired to bed quite early. At least that's what Severus assumed, he could be doing anything in his room. He had to repress a shudder, he did not want to think of those things and how they related to Harry Potter.

"That was quick Severus. I take it you are up for a discussion?" Albus was sitting at his desk, he held his bowl of lemon drops out, "Lemon drop?" He asked.

"No thank you," Severus said, trying to keep as much of the hatred he held towards those damned lemon drops out of his voice as possible. "I am willing to discuss Harry Potter. I've yet to tell you about what I found at the Dursleys."

Albus leaned forward in his seat and leaned his elbows onto the desk. "Please, tell me about it and while you're at it, take a seat. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that you don't have to wait for me to tell you to sit."

Severus sat down in one of the two chairs that were on the side of the desk that Albus was not on. "I may have been wrong about my assumptions involving the Dursleys. While they are still as foul as the last time I saw them I found their treatment of Harry Potter lacking." He continued to use Harry Potter instead of either just Harry or Potter, it was as if he was in a crossroads between mindsets, not wanting to fully accept one, but not fully ready to let go of the other either.

"I am sure that they treated Harry relatively well. Arabella has never informed me of anything that should be brought to the authorities. I doubt that Mr Dursley nor Petunia Dursley would be capable of harming their nephew." Albus was fooling himself into thinking that everything was going to be alright, Severus knew this as he had fallen into the same trap himself over the years.

Severus' voice turned acerbic, "I saw it in the boy's mind. The muggles neglect him, they don't feed him, they give him a nearly impossible list of tasks to complete — on a daily basis. Do not get me started on the appalling punishments they dish out to him more than you offer your candy to others. They locked him in a cupboard under the stairs. No child deserves that kind of treatment."

Dumbledore was taken aback, "I'm sure they're not that bad. No one would have the heart to neglect such a nice boy, not even you. Look at what you've done for the son of James."

"Stop calling him James' son," Snape snapped. Even if Harry Potter was the son of Potter he was going to try and push it out of his mind as much as possible. He had let his imaginings of what the great Harry Potter was supposed to be get in the way of his logical mind. He had missed all the signs, how Harry shrugged off his friends' touches, how he always seemed to be shifting the conversation away from himself. Harry Potter was in Gryffindor, and that had made it more difficult for Snape to pick up, but he should have been able to see it.

He was disgusted with himself for letting something like that happen. Just because he didn't like Harry Potter's father and his fame did not mean that he had any right to turn a blind eye to the tells he knew personally.

"Anyways," he continued, "I'm not letting any person under my care go without the things that they need. I may be a cruel person, but not unnecessarily so."

A small smile adorned Albus' face and Severus watched as he fixed his glasses before speaking. "I'm glad you've had a change of heart. Harry needs a constant in his life and you're the first person willing to step up to the role."

"I'm only doing it because of Lily." That was a pure lie and Severus knew it.

"Harry's enjoying his new book. I saw him reading it during lunch today, and during the next holidays I might give him a project of making his own broom. It will keep him out from under your feet."

Severus huffed, "He was drooling over that book so much I'm sure there would have been a puddle on the floor if I hadn't bought it for him."

The affirmative hum from Albus gave Severus no doubts that his lie had not worked.

"And Severus," They had continued to talk for a few more minutes, with Severus becoming more and more desperate to escape by the minute. He had finally succeeded and was standing at the entrance to Albus' office, his hand resting on the doorframe, "Please do refrain from skimming the boy's thoughts."

Severus didn't reply and left the room, his robes billowing behind him. It wasn't as if he could keep himself from skimming Harry Potter's mind, and it hadn't turned out that bad. He had found out the not so savoury things that had been happening involving him and what were supposed to be his guardians.

But with a mind as unshielded as that, it would only mean bad things. Severus hadn't delved far, just enough to skim over Harry Potter's mind and had managed to collect all of that information. The boy really did wear his heart on the sleeves. Though Severus has never been one for those sorts of metaphors, that one did seem apt for the situation.

The one thing he dreaded at the moment was the start of the school year. He was sure that it was going to be the same as every single other one. He would have to spend hours sitting in the Great Hall as the hat called out ' _Gryffindor!', 'Slytherin!', 'Ravenclaw!',_ and, ' _Hufflepuff!'_ In some sort of order that was up to the hat itself.

At least this year might be interesting. He was going to have to contend with the fact that Harry Potter, the Gryffindor Golden Boy was his son, technically. He would have to tell the boy to not start spreading the news around willy-nilly and instead keep it confined to anyone he wanted to go through the effort to cast a secrecy charm on.

If news of him being Harry Potter's biological father got out. Well then...that would not be too pleasant at all.

He sped up his gait, just because the students were on holiday didn't mean that he should slack at all, and by that he meant that he would stare at lesson plans for a good few hours as he managed to finish the last of the firewhiskey bottle that he had opened a while back.

Severus might as well enjoy the last few days of freedom before he was bogged down with snotty first years and then with fifth years trying to find discreet places in the castle to do things such as snog themselves silly amongst other activities for the hell of it.


End file.
